


Road to Hell

by Triskel_Samulet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Demigod Derek Hale, Hellhound Jordan Parrish, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Inspired by Hadestown, Lydia Martin as Persephone, Minor Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Musician Derek Hale, Peter Hale as Hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triskel_Samulet/pseuds/Triskel_Samulet
Summary: In a world of gods and men, Hades aka Peter wants to keep his love all to himself. But when is actions start effecting the world above ground, Derek is determined to set things right.Inspired by Hadestown and the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Lydia Martin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	1. Introduction/Epic

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I recently listened to the Hadestown soundtrack and couldn't help but see parallels between those characters and our beloved Teen Wolf guys! If you haven't listened to the soundtrack then I highly recommend it.
> 
> As always kudos and comments are most welcome!

It was a world of gods and men and Peter enjoyed walking in both of them. Don’t get him wrong, he loved ruling the underworld as Hades. Down there he was feared and revered, but it sometimes got lonely. He wasn’t quite sure what was missing.

On the road to hell there was a railroad line, and sometimes Hades would take the train to try and find what he was missing. When he left his kingdom was when he would go by Peter. People were never happy to meet the god of the underworld. They always blamed him for the death of loved ones despite the fact that he was not the god of death.

So he would walk among men in disguise, looking for what could not be found in his kingdom. On one such occasion he was wandering through a field of flowers. For the first time he was truly admiring their beauty. When he looked up from the flowers, he saw her.

She was dressed in all green and had a crown of flowers on top of her long, flowing, red hair. She was even more beautiful than the flowers that surrounded her and Peter finally felt like he found what he was looking for. She introduced herself as Lydia and Peter was in love.

He spent the remaining time he had in the world of men wooing this woman. Before he left, he asked, “Come home with me?”

“I can’t,” responded the woman.

“Don’t you love me?” Peter asked, desperate not to return to his life of exile. There was no sun there, no warmth, no love. But Lydia was all of that personified, he knew he would no longer be able to live in her absence.

“I do, but the world needs me here.” The woman explained, “I am the goddess Persephone in disguise. I love walking the fields, but I like to be left alone. I would love nothing more than to go with you and rule by your side, but if I go, then nothing will grow here. The humans would be without food, no children would be born. I cannot abandon them. Just like you have a duty to the underworld, I have my duty here.”

“Stay with me for some time, please,” Peter begged, “Give me six months. The humans can gather extra during the time you are here, and then we can be together for the rest of the year. I love you, Lydia.”

“I love you too, Peter.” Lydia said, and she agreed, “This is crazy. I’ve never heard of any of the gods abandoning their posts like you did and like I’m going to do. But I love you so much. I’m not even sure I can go six months without you, but I know I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with you if I knew the people were suffering.

“I will go to the underworld with you. I will be your queen. But six months out of the year we must be apart. I love you so much, Peter.”

And in their joy, the two of them danced. They danced in the field and then they danced in the underworld. Peter never wanted to stop dancing with Lydia. Her beauty brought a new radiance to his kingdom and his subjects loved her and respected her. Finally, Peter was happy.

So the world of men was given the seasons. When Lydia came back up on the train, the earth would flourish and the sun would shine brightly, but when she returned to her love, the winters would creep in. This arrangement worked for many years, but Peter longed for Lydia when she was gone. He feared someone else would see her beauty like he did and she would choose the ability to stay above ground than be with him.

In her absence, he made his subjects build contraptions that would make it feel like she was still there; bring the warmth she had. But it was not the same. It was a hollow imitation. So he started calling her back early. Just a week at first, then two, then an entire month. 

And he had his subjects build a wall around his kingdom in the hopes to keep out anyone who would dare take his love away and there were those who tried. Lydia’s mother in particular was very upset that she would be spending half the year in the underworld. Peter did not care for her at all and was glad she had to spend her time above ground.

All Peter knew was the joy of his love’s presence with him. He knew nothing of the torment it was placing on the world of men. Without a full spring and summer, they were unable to complete a proper harvest. The weather also became unpredictable; either blazing hot or freezing cold. Both food and shelter was scarce.

In the world of men there was a town that sat on the railroad line on the road to hell. This town was called Beacon Hills and in Beacon Hills there was a poor boy who was said to be the son of the gods themselves. 

His name was Derek and he was a charming young man, but detached from reality. He was musically gifted and believed he could write a song that would fix whatever was wrong in the world that created the horrible weather. He was so focused on his song that he rarely went out and his uncle Hermes would often visit and take care of him.

Also in the town of Beacon Hills there was a poor boy looking for something to eat. He had nowhere to live and no one to help him since his family had all died of starvation. Both of his parents gave him all the food they could find and by the time he figured out what they were doing, it was too late. His name was Stiles and he was scrappy, resourceful, and distrusting of everyone he met. It was the only way he knew how to survive.

Thus begins our tale of the road to hell with a love song.


	2. Any Way, Come Home with a Wedding Song

Stiles was making his way south, to Beacon Hills. During the summer he made his way north where it wasn’t so scorching, but it was winter and the cold was unbearable. Normally he would try and go even farther south, but there were rumors of food in Beacon Hills and he was so hungry!

He remembered his parents’ stories about when the weather was mild; when there were four seasons and food was plentiful. No one was without. But now it seemed as though everyone was struggling and if everyone was as desperate as he was… well there was a reason he traveled alone.

He did occasionally have company. On days when he couldn’t find food and the wind was so strong, he would bend to it. He would find someone with food and/or shelter and offer his services to them, whatever they wanted. He didn’t like doing it and he felt so dirty after, but it would protect him from the wind and fill his belly for a time. He would stay for as long as he was welcome. Usually it was just the night, but there had been a few that had the means and the interest to keep him around longer. All too soon the food would run out and Stiles would be traveling on his own again, fighting the wind and hunger.

When he got to Beacon Hills he saw a group of people huddled behind a building, trying to hide from the wind. He saw some wood nearby that he could probably make into a small fire.

He approached the group, “Does anybody have a match?” They all shook their heads. It made sense, if they did then one of them would have lit the fire.

He didn’t like the idea of huddling with strangers even if the shared body heat would be nice. It would be too easy for them to take what little he had.

In the distance he could see someone approaching. It looked like they had food, but he wasn’t sure if they had shelter. Thinking over his options he went with what he thought was the best course of action. He approached the person from behind. Upon closer inspection he could tell it was a woman who was older than him, probably in her early to mid thirties, with light brown hair.

He took out his pocket knife and placed it at the small of her back, “Give me that.” Not his most eloquent sentence, but he wasn’t really used to robbing people.

The woman just smiled, “What are you planning on doing?” She asked, “If you rob me, they’ll just fight you for the food. But if you come with me, then you get a full belly and share a warm bed.”

Stiles hated it, but she was right. He could already see the others starting to stir at the sight of the food.

“Alright, let’s go.” Stiles agreed and he followed her home.

Her home was small but warm, and the food was plentiful. Stiles didn’t think he had ever seen so much food in one place.

“Where did you get all this?” He asked.

“Don’t concern yourself with such things,” Came her reply, “Just eat up and meet me in bed. You’ll get breakfast tomorrow, too, so don’t over eat.”

For once, Stiles ate until he was satisfied, then he went to bed to fulfill his end of the bargain.

The next morning on the other side of town, Hermes was visiting his nephew who hadn’t eaten in a few days. It wasn’t for lack of having. Hermes made sure the boy was stocked with the essentials, but Derek was just so consumed with his song. Convinced that he could fix the world.

“You need to take a break, son.” Hermes said.

“I’m not your son.” Derek growled in response. He did not like being interrupted.

Hermes grabbed the lyre out of Derek’s hands and replaced it with an apple, “You are going to eat this and then we are going for a walk.”

Derek rolled his eyes but complied. He knew Hermes was only trying to help, and when he got in over protective mode there was no arguing with him. He finished the apple and the two of them left on a walk around the town.

About halfway through their walk they came upon the river that ran by the edge of town and there Derek saw the most beautiful man he had ever seen washing in its waters. He was skinny, as if he hadn’t had much to eat, but that was common. He was also toned, as if he exercised a lot. His hair was a nice brown but it was hard to tell the shade due to the water. Derek, never one to do things in halves, was immediately taken with him. He had sung of love so often, he knew that was what he was feeling.

Hermes looked at his nephew with an amused look on his face, “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Go on,” Hermes nudged the boy, “But Derek, don’t come on too strong.” Hermes knew his nephew often wore his heart on his sleeve. Hopefully it wouldn’t scare this man away. Having a human in his life might do him some good.

Derek hesitantly walked up to the man at the river. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. When he got close the man looked over at him with bug, doe-like eyes and Derek was so taken by them he blurted out, “Come home with me.”

“Who are you?” The man responded.

“The man who’s going to marry you!” Hermes buried his face in his hands. Didn’t he just tell the boy not to come on too strong? What was he thinking? “I’m Derek.” Well, at least he introduced himself.

“Is he always like this?” The man at the river looked past Derek to Hermes.

Hermes let out a big sigh, “Yes.” This should all be Apollo’s problem or Calliope’s, not his. Why was he the only one in the entire pantheon that cared about these kids?

“I’m Mieczysław, but you can call me Stiles.” The man responded, placing his focus back on Derek.

“Your name is like a melody!” Derek’s voice carried so much wonder in it. It was clear he was in love.

“So you’re a singer.” Stiles observed.

“I also play the lyre.” Derek added, tentatively. There was a blush on his cheeks.

“A liar and a player too. I’ve met too many men like you.” Stiles grabbed his shirt and went to leave. After what he endured last night he wasn’t going to be warming any more beds for at least a week… or that was what he told himself.

“Wait, no! I’m not like that!” Derek insisted.

“He’s not like any man you’ve ever met,” Hermes tried his best to be a wingman, “Tell him what you're working on.”

“I’m working on a song. And when it’s done, spring will come again!”

“Come again?” Stiles asked. He wasn’t quite sure he had heard correctly. It’s not like that was possible; a song to bring back an entire season.

Derek was excited because he finally got Stiles’ full attention, “Spring will come.” He insisted.

“When?” Stiles scoffed, “I haven’t seen a spring or fall since… well I’ve never seen it.”

“That’s what I’m working on,” Derek explained, “A song to fix what’s wrong. It will take what’s broken and make it whole again. And all the flowers will bloom… when you become my husband.”

“Oh, so you’re crazy.” Stiles nodded in understanding. Then he turned to Hermes, “Why would I become his husband?”

Hermes smirked at how the two were interacting, “Maybe because he makes you feel alive.”

“Alive?” Stiles asked. He hadn’t felt that way since he was a child. When he still had his parents and he didn’t know about the darkness in the world, “That’s worth a lot.” He looked at Derek again and gave him an appraising look. Sure this guy was kind of crazy, but not in a dangerous way. With this man he would have shelter and safety. It was better than staying out on the streets and going home with a different stranger whenever he could. 

“What else you got?” Stiles asked, grabbing Derek’s hand and walking with him.

Hermes knew that the two would have a lot of struggles in the times to come, but they would be able to endure it if they stayed together.

“So, tell me, with times like they are, how are we going to get the wedding bands?” Stiles joked. There was no way to have anything extravagant like this.

“When I sing my song, the rivers will open and give their treasures to me,” Derek responded, “With that gold, we will make our wedding bands.”

Stiles had been right in his initial assessment that this guy was crazy. He was an idealist.

“Alright, so how will we get the wedding table?” Stiles asked, curious now to hear Derek’s response.

“When I sing my song, the trees will bend for us and make us the most beautiful wedding table.” Derek smiled. It was clear this guy believed what he was saying.

“Let’s see it,” Stiles said, “Let’s see this magical song.”

“It isn’t finished, yet.” Derek blushed again. Stiles liked the look of that blush on his cheeks.

“Show me what you’ve got so far.” Stiles insisted and then Derek sang. It was the most beautiful sound Stiles had ever heard and around them flowers bloomed. Derek picked one and gave it to Stiles.

“Your song can do all that?” Stiles asked in wonder. His song actually brought spring to them!

“It isn’t finished, yet.” The blush creeped up Derek’s cheeks again. It was clear he didn’t like the praise coming from Stiles, but he couldn’t help it; Derek wasn’t crazy! He could actually bring spring back!

Stiles stopped them and grabbed both of Derek’s hands and looked him right in the eyes, “You have to finish it.” This time it was Stiles’ turn to have his voice filled with wonder. What Derek could do was nothing short of miraculous.

Stiles and Derek went back to walking hand-in-hand, both unable to comprehend how they were lucky enough to find the other.

“So, what about the wedding bed?” Stiles asked.

This question caused the brightest blush to come across Derek’s face, “When I sing my song, the birds will fly above, and their feathers will make the wedding bed.”

Stiles still couldn’t buy into this idealistic view of the world, but it brought him hope, and so he decided to stay with Derek and see where this went. Hopefully the song would be finished and they would be wed in the spring and they would be able to have a plentiful feast to celebrate.


	3. Living it up

On the road to hell there was a railroad line and Lydia was finally using it. She was a little late and forgot spring again, but there was finally a reprieve from the cold. This time she went all the way to the opposite end of the line, to a town called Beacon Hills. She was drawn there by the presents of another god, Hermes.

“You’re late.” Hermes told her.

“Well, I’ve been to hell and back, and that takes time.” Lydia laughed. She had become a bit unhinged after spending so much time amongst the dead and not enough with the living, “I’m here in spite of my man. I love him, but it can be hard for us to part, even when necessary.

“Come on now, brother, it’s summertime. Time to party!” Lydia cried, and food sprouted from the ground and it was plentiful. A large table also appeared and it was big enough for everyone who lived in Beacon Hills to have a place to sit and eat.

“Now we just need some music,” Lydia commented, “Then we have a party.”

Hermes smiled, “I think I know a guy.”

And so the citizens of Beacon Hills came together for a feast and a celebration in honor of Lydia for finally bringing the spring and summer. Amongst those in attendance was a boy who had always run away, but this time he had decided to stay in spite of himself. Also in attendance was a young boy with a lyre and he played for everyone at the feast.

“Who says times are hard?” Lydia laughed, “Does anybody want a drink?” Any time someone at the feast started to feel down because they knew it was temporary, Lydia would come to them and lift their spirits. While she was there for a short time, she made the most of it and so, for a short time, the world came back to life.

“Let’s pass the bottle around and let the singer make a toast!” Lydia declared.

“To the patroness of all of this, Persephone, who has finally returned to us with wine enough to share,” Derek started, “Asking nothing in return except that we should live and learn to live as brothers in this life and to trust she will provide and if no one takes too much, there will always be enough she will always fill our cups.”

“I will.” Lydia said more to herself than to the others at the feast.

“And we raise them up to the world she makes, the world we see it could be, as well as the world we live in now.” Derek finished his toast.

Lydia was impressed by this young man. Just like her, he saw the world as it was, but was determined to overcome the obstacles and create a better world for everyone. He would do great things, she knew it in her bones.

She looked to the young man who came with the singer. He was gaunt and his face was closed off, but there was something there when he looked at the singer, as if he had feelings he did not want to have. Lydia smiled, she remembered that feeling well from when she first met Peter. She just hoped their story turned out better than hers did.

Derek was a poor boy, but he had a gift for showing people the way the world could be in spite of the way it was. Stiles had grown up seeing the world as it was, so when he fell for Derek, it was in spite of himself.

Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself now. He had gone so long without company he had forgotten what it was like to be around someone and actually enjoy their presence. He had even forgotten what warmth felt like. All he had ever known was how to fend for himself, but now he wanted to stop and stay with Derek.

There was more to Derek than there was with a normal person, Stiles observed. He was bright and warm. His presence was comforting and safe… Stiles hadn’t felt safe in so long. Stiles realized he never wanted to leave Derek’s side.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky as to be with you,” Derek stated when the feast was over, “When I saw you, I felt like I had already known you.”

“But you don’t even know me yet.” Stiles said, but inside, he felt the same way Derek did. He couldn’t explain it, but he was drawn to Derek for some reason.

Derek pulled Stiles close, “I want to know you.” 

Derek reached his hand up and cupped Stiles’ cheek. He moved slowly, so Stiles knew he could stop it at any time, but Stiles made no move to stop him. And then there was a soft brush of lips. It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it was enough for Stiles to know that Derek was there and that he wasn’t leaving.

The two sat under a tree and stayed in each other’s arms.

“Say that you’ll hold me forever,” Stiles said, “Say that the wind won’t change on us. Say that it will always be like this.”

Derek smiled and gave Stiles a little squeeze, “I’m going to hold you forever and the wind won’t change on us. As long as we stay with each other, it will always be like this. I love you, Stiles.”

“I love you, too, Derek.”

While Derek and Stiles were together under the tree, another train came to Beacon Hills. This one did not come to give, but to take.

“That was not six months.” Lydia said when she saw the train coming.

“Guess you better go pack up.” Hermes said and Lydia rolled her eyes.

The people eyed the train warily. They knew those on the other end never starved, but they also knew no one came back, with the exception of Lydia.

“It’s just a bunch of stiffs down there,” Lydia complained to Hermes, “I’m going to be so bored and who knows how long I’ll be under this time!”

“You chose this life,” Hermes reminded her, “You chose love.”

“He doesn’t seem loving anymore,” Lydia confessed, “He’s become possessive. Like I’m one of his objects that he owns.”

“Well, he does own everything down there.”

“Not helping,” Lydia growled, “Just give me morphine or alcohol or something. This is going to be a long winter.”

The train pulled into the station and Peter stepped out. The crowd that gathered all quickly disperspersed, but Derek and Stiles could still see from their perch under a tree.

“You’re early.” Lydia spit at him.

“I’ve missed you.” Peter responded.

Stiles had heard the rumors about what life was like on the other side. No more hunger, no more worry. He wondered what that kind of life would be like.

Derek and Stiles watched as Lydia got on the train and spring and summer left with her. Stiles wondered when or if it would ever come again.


	4. When the Chips are Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this I was really liking the Lydia/Peter dynamic. I feel like this is the way they would be if they were actually a couple.
> 
> As always I love to hear from you, so leave kudos and/or comments!

As soon as the train left, the cold crept back in. There was nothing to hold the warmth anymore.

“He came too soon.” Derek said as he watched the train leave.

“Well, until someone brings the world back into tune, this is how it is.” Stiles responded as the two of them got up to seek shelter.

Derek led Stiles back to his home. It was a run down old shack in the middle of town. There was no bed and the food Hermes had brought Derek in the past was gone. All they had was a little bit of shelter from the oncoming storm.

Derek grabbed his lyre and sat down.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Stiles asked.

“I have to finish the song.” Derek responded. For the first time his face and his voice were both serious. He was no longer the carefree man Stiles had initially met. Stiles was fine with the change, but he wasn’t sure the song was what they should be focusing on.

“Finish it quick,” Stiles compromised, “There’s a storm coming on and we need food. We need firewood.”

The wind picked up and Stiles wasn’t sure if Derek had heard him.

“Derek!” Stiles called, “Derek!” But Derek was lost in his own world, “Okay, finish it.” And Stiles left to gather the supplies they would need for the long winter ahead.

Stiles went out alone to find the supplies they would need. He managed to find some food, but that was quickly stolen by a gang. He tried to fight for it, but was pushed aside. The wind kept getting fiercer. Stiles had seen a lot, but he had never seen a storm like this one. It was as if the gods were placing all of their wrath into one storm.

“Derek!” Stiles called through the storm, but he knew the other man couldn’t hear him. Stiles tried to believe in the song Derek was singing; that the song would put an end to the storms and the wind, but it was hard when he was all alone in the midst of it.

Meanwhile in the underworld, Peter’s workers were working hard to build the wall that would help keep Lydia with him. Peter looked around at all the work that had been done to improve his kingdom for his love and he almost felt satisfied.

“It’s the coldest time of the year,” Lydia stated as she stepped off the train, “Why is it so hot down here? It’s never been this hot before.”

“You were gone so long and I missed your warmth, so I built a foundry for you, for us. When you feel the heat, let it remind you of my love for you.” Peter leaned in for a kiss, but Lydia started walking toward their castle.

In the back of his mind, Peter could hear the echoes of a familiar song being sung, but it was quickly drowned out by the noise of the workers around him. He followed quickly after his wife.

“It’s supposed to be dark. Why are there all of these lights? I have never seen lights like these before.” Lydia complained.

“When you were gone, the light left with you. I had the workers lay a power grid so that you would always be able to find your way back to me.” Lydia gave him a calculating look before moving on and Peter was left trailing after her again.

Lydia’s first stop was the kitchens where she grabbed a bottle of wine and started drinking straight from the bottle.

“Darling, don’t do that,” Peter pleaded, “You know how you get when you drink.”

“How I get?” Lydia asked, “Every year you get worse. You are disrupting the natural order. Making your kingdom into a factory? Your subjects into laborers? Meanwhile harvests die and storms rage in the world of the living. It’s not right and it’s not natural, Peter. So if I want to drink to get through it, I’m going to drink.”

“Fine. If you can’t accept what I’ve done for you in the name of love, I’ll find someone who will. Someone who will see this as the caring gesture that it is and will appreciate the comfort of these walls I built. I hope you enjoy your bottle.” With that, Peter turned back to the train to find someone who would stay with him forever.

“He can’t hear the song,” Derek said to his empty home, “His walls, his inventions, they are drowning out the song of their love. That’s why he can’t let Lydia go, that’s why we can’t have spring. Stiles! I’ve got it! We have to remind Peter of how he first fell in love!”

Derek stood up and turned around to find that Stiles wasn’t in their home. He looked outside and saw the storm raging. 

He opened the door and called out “Stiles!” but got no response. The storm was too bad to go out after his love, as much as he hated it, he was going to have to wait until the storm let up to go out and search for Stiles.

Stiles was cold, wet, and hungry. He had such high hopes for his future with Derek, but he had been left to his own devices again. It was so dark and the rain was so heavy that he didn’t even know the way back to Derek. He felt so weak, he didn’t think he would make the journey back even if he did know the way.

Then he heard something in the distance; was that a train whistle? If the train was back, why was the storm still raging on? Maybe he was just imagining things, his subconscious trying to give him hope. It did that sometimes. The last time it happened he saw his parents.

He could see the rain parting, but that wasn’t possible, rain didn’t part. Then he saw him, a shadowy man coming through the rain. The storm didn’t touch him at all. He was wearing a well tailored suit and the nicest shoes Stiles had ever seen. The man was older than himself, probably by about twenty years if Stiles had to guess. The thing that drew Stiles in the most were the man’s blue eyes. There was just something about then that Stiles couldn’t look away from.

“Hey little songbird,” the man said with a smirk, “What, cat got your tongue? That’s always a pity for one so pretty and young.”

The man caressed Stiles cheek as he said that. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he didn’t stop it, he had done much more with much worse, and this man looked like he could pay handsomely.

“That’s okay, handsome, nobody can sing on empty.” 

Stiles met the man’s eyes and was drawn in by them again. This man was offering him food? He didn’t even have to ask. This man would be able to provide for his every need. There would be no more wondering where his next meal was coming from or wondering if he’d have a bed. This man clearly had a nice living situation and Stiles was so tired he felt like he could lie down on a soft bed forever.

“You shine just like one of the diamonds in my mine,” The man looked Stiles up and down, “It looks like you have nothing to lose, and I could use a new canary.”

The man’s offer was tempting, but it wasn’t just him anymore. He and Derek had promised each other forever together. Stiles couldn’t betray that promise… could he?

“Let me guess, you found a guy, but he’s penniless?” The man smirked again, “All he can do is write you a poem and sing you a song, but the vipers are closing in. Now you need to choose, is it you or him?” 

He held out a train ticket to Stiles. The train that would take him to the place where hunger didn’t exist, but there was only one ticket. He knew if he left, he would be leaving Derek behind.

Stiles thought about what his life would be like if he stayed: Derek would continue working on a song to save spring that may never be finished. Meanwhile Stiles would be fighting for food for both him and Derek. Stiles had been fighting his entire life and he was exhausted. He didn’t want to have to keep fighting.

Stiles looked in the direction he thought Derek’s shack was and said, “Derek, you filled my heart, but the rest of me is empty. I have to go.”

And so Stiles left with Peter on the train on the road to hell.


	5. Our Lady of the Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get Jordan in this chapter! I was so excited to get to write him as an actually hellhound.
> 
> As always I love hearing from you! Please leave kudos/comments.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled. The storm had finally calmed down some and Derek was running through town trying to find his love. Suddenly Hermes appeared before him.

“Where is he?” Derek demanded of the god.

“Why do you care? You’ll find another muse somewhere.” Derek was taken aback by Hermes’ callousness to the situation. He knew how much Stiles meant to Derek, he had been there when they met and when they fell in love.

“Where is he?” Derek growled. He had no time for whatever game Hermes was playing.

“Why do you want to know?” Now the man was really grating on his nerves.

“Wherever he is is where I’ll go.”

“Even if I said she’s down below?” Hermes asked.

“Down below?” Derek echoed, wondering just what Hermes was getting at.

“Down on the other end of the tracks,” Hermes answered, “He called for you, quite a few times actually, but you were too wrapped up in your song.”

Guilt wrapped around Derek’s heart and tugged. Stiles needed him and he wasn’t there. He needed to fix this. He needed to get Stiles back.

“So, how far would you go for him?”

“I would go anywhere,” Derek declared, “I would go to the end of time or the end of the earth. Nowhere is too far in order to be with Stiles again.”

Hermes smirked and nodded toward the train tracks, “Do you have a ticket?”

“No.” Derek deflated. Everyone knew the only way to get to the underworld was with a ticket for the train. He had to find another way, he just had to!

“Then I guess you’ll have to walk.”

Derek looked at Hermes, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “That’s possible?”

“Yes there is, around the back. It’s not easy walking. The terrain is rough and there are guard dogs posted. Do you still want to go?”

“With all my heart.” And Derek meant it. He would do whatever it took to get Stiles back.

Hermes let out a soft chuckle, “With all your heart. Now listen closely as I tell you the way to the underworld.”

And Derek did listen with rapt attention. Then Derek set out. He slept during the day and moved through the night so he wouldn’t get caught. He followed the railroad track and ducked out of sight any time the train came, which was rare.

“Wait for me, Stiles. I’m coming.” Derek called out.

The hike was long and it was freezing. Derek didn’t have much in the way of food or shelter, but he would sing his unfinished song to bring some semblance of spring. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him going.

After walking for weeks, Derek finally saw the walls that blocked the underworld from the world of the living. The walls were high and wide, made out of concrete with razor wire at the top. There was no way Derek was going to be able to climb it. He just had to find the back way in that Hermes was talking about.

With his eyes on the wall, Derek moved forward and started to walk around the enclosed city. Then he heard a growl behind him and he went rigged. He remembered Hermes telling him about the hellhounds that patrolled the outside of the city. He hadn’t really thought of what he would do if he encountered one.

“Who are you?” The beast growled and Derek turned around to face it, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“My name is Derek and I’m going to the underworld.” Derek tried to keep his voice from wavering. The hellhound didn’t look like a dog like he had been expecting. Instead, it was a muscular, soot covered man with glowing eyes and fire in his hands.

“Why are you all alone?” The hound asked, “And why do you think you get to walk this road that no one has ever walked before.”

Not knowing what to do or say in response, Derek started to sing. But he didn’t sing the song of spring. Instead, he sang a song that embodied his love for Stiles; a song that would show the hound the exact reason why he had traveled all this way and why he needed to get inside the underworld.

The hounds fire vanished and he put his hand on Derek’s shoulder, “I will help you, but there are some things you need to know before we go inside. Don’t tell anyone your name and don’t look anyone in the eye. These things will make you stand out and they will know you don’t belong. If they find that out, you will be punished in the worst ways imaginable.”

Derek nodded his understanding and followed the hound to the entrance.

Peter helped Stiles off the train and he was taken aback by what he saw. He had thought that the world that had Lydia for most of the year would be a flourishing spring paradise. Instead it was artificial and hollow. The people were not celebrating, but working with dead eyes.

“Are we in the right place?” Stiles asked.

“Yes we are,” Peter answered, “Welcome to my kingdom, Stiles. With Lydia gone so much I had to make some adjustments, but I think they make it more hospitable here, don’t you? No more cold winds, no more endless darkness, and no one can come in and take you away from your newfound security.”

Stiles had to admit that what Peter was saying sounded nice, but seeing it in practice didn’t quite measure up. There was something missing, but Stiles couldn’t put a finger on it.

Peter put his hand on the small of Stiles’ back and guided him toward the palace.

“But what about the wall?” Stiles asked, his curiosity getting the better of him, “What’s the purpose of the wall?”

“Building the wall is a way for people to earn their keep here,” Peter answered, “It’s also a way to keep out those who want what we have here. The wall is what gives us the freedom to truly live.”

Stiles wasn’t sure that logic made sense, but he nodded anyway, not wanting to offend the king of his new home.

Inside the palace, Stiles saw Lydia when they passed the kitchens. Her eyes flickered to the position of Peter’s hand on Stiles body and she glared at them as they passed. There was a room across the hall from the kitchen and Peter moved in front of Stiles to open the door.

“Step into my office.” Peter commanded, and so Stiles obeyed. The last thing Stiles saw before the door closed was Lydia’s furious face, “Now, let’s get down to… business.” For the first time since meeting this man, Stiles’ felt dread and regret creeping in.

A lot can happen behind closed doors, Lydia knew that first hand. But a lot could also happen when the king turned his back on his subjects. It was time for a little moral boost and a party.

“Does anybody want a drink?” Lydia offered to the kitchen staff. They all looked at her as if she had lost her mind, and maybe she had.

She took a big swig of the bottle that was in her hand and said in a mocking tone, “Step into my office.” She threw the bottle at the office door and let out a cackling laugh as she grabbed another bottle.

“If you're like me,” Lydia continued talking to the staff despite how on edge it made them, “Then you’re getting a little stir crazy. Let’s get outside.” 

She ushered them all outside the palace and then rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah. I forgot about the ‘improvements.’” She let out another cackling laugh before taking a big drink.

“I think we all could use a pick me up!” She called to the workers outside, “Do we want wind? Rain? Sun?” They all cheered. She liked it when she could do something for those who were trapped like she was.

“Wait, let me guess, it’s the little things you miss,” Lydia walked up to one particularly depressed looking worker, “Spring flowers?” She pulled a small bouquet out of thin air and gave it to him.

“Come on! Ask me and you shall receive!” It was so rare she had a moment down here without Peter and she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. These people deserved something better and she was going to give it to them.

It was then that Lydia noticed a small crack in the wall; a way out. She filed that information away for later so that she could begin working on an escape plan for herself and the others. Leave Peter to his new whore for all she cared. She just had to make sure no one else noticed it before it was time.

Some workers brought out some improvised instruments and the kitchen crew brought out some more bottles of wine. It was truly a party now.


	6. Flowers

Stiles emerged from Peter’s office feeling hollow. Nothing here was as it had been promised. He felt cheated and lied to and all he wanted to do was go back home.

Outside the office there was a woman with a clipboard waiting for him.

“Did you sign the contracts?” She asked.

“Yes.” Stiles responded in a quiet voice.

“Good. Now go get your pickaxe and join the line.” She shoved him to a container full of pickaxes and he grabbed one before approaching the workers.

“Hi, my name is Stiles.” He introduced himself, but no one acknowledged him.

“They have too much work to do then to focus on trivial things like names,” The woman said, “Get to work.”

She left him with the other workers, so Stiles started pounding away at the rock. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing, so he watched the other workers and tried to imitate them. It was through watching them that Stiles realized they were always hunched over and never lifted their faces.

He realized that it wasn’t that they didn’t have the time to exchange names, but there was something draining about this place. The workers all looked like zombies. Was Stiles going to end up like that? 

He needed to remember. He had to remember home… where was home again? He had someone waiting for him, someone he loved deeply… but who was that person? He hadn’t even been working a full day and already he was feeling the effects of the nothingness that was the underworld.

Even though Stiles could no longer remember, he was still going to keep his head held high. Peter could take him away from his home and take away who he was, but he can’t take his pride. Stiles had always been defiant. He defied the odds of survival so many times, so now he was going to show that defiance to the king of the underworld.

All Stiles had wanted was a warm place to sleep and some food in his belly. Peter had been such a charmer and had promised wonderful things, and he was able to fulfill that promise so quickly. But it had been so wrong when it all played out.

Alone with Peter in his office Stiles had been trembling, and they weren’t trembles of anticipation. He had been laid out so bare and none of it felt right.

“You won’t feel a thing.” Peter had said, and now Stiles couldn’t feel anything.

He needed something to cling onto; something to remember. Then he saw it, trampled under the feet of the workers was a bouquet of flowers. He remembered flowers. They were so rare since spring hardly ever came, but the memory of flowers was something that could ground him to the world up above.

He remembered someone who gave him flowers. Someone who chose to stay by his side, but Stiles turned away and came here instead.

“If you ever come this way, please find me.” Stiles said, but he didn’t know who the message was for.

“This way!” The hellhound called, “There’s a crack in the wall.”

Derek followed the hound to the crack. He looked inside and what he saw shocked him. He knew Peter closed his heart to love, but the sheer coldness of the kingdom was like nothing Derek had ever seen before.

“This is as far as I can take you,” The hound said, “I hope you find your love.”

“Thank you,” Derek replied, “Say, what’s your name?”

The hound looked shocked, as if no one had ever asked him that before.

“I don’t have one.”

“I’m going to call you Jordan.” Derek smiled.

Jordan smiled back, “I like that. Thank you. Now go! And don’t get caught!” Jordan practically pushed Derek to the other side of the wall.

Derek kept to the shadows while looking at the workers for Stiles. It was hard to see since the workers all kept their heads down, but then he saw him; the one person who would bow his head to no one.

“Come home with me.” Derek said as he approached Stiles.

“It’s you!” Stiles gasped.

“It’s me.” Derek smiled and pulled Stiles in for a kiss.

“Derek.” Stiles breathed against Derek’s lips like a prayer.

“Stiles.”

“I called your name before…” Stiles trailed off, as if not knowing how to word exactly what had happened.

“I know.”

“You heard?” Stiles’ expression was one of open hurt.

“No, Hermes told me,” Derek responded, “If I had heard I would have come. I will always come.” Derek promised. It broke his heart that he had been so distracted that he missed Stiles’ distress, but no more. Stiles will always be his first priority from now on.

“How did you get here?” Stiles asked.

“I walked.”

“But the wall…” Stiles trailed off again.

“I sang a song so beautiful that one of the hellhounds helped me,” Derek smiled, “It was the song of our love.”

Stiles pulled him in for another kiss.

“I can sing us home again.” Derek insisted. He leaned in for another kiss, but Stiles pulled away.

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I can,” Derek was shocked by his reaction, “You’ve seen what my songs can do. I can get us home!”

“No, Derek, you don’t understand!” Stiles sobbed.

“You’re damn right he doesn’t understand.” Said a voice as a shadow crept over them. Based on the suit the man was wearing this must be Peter. Derek also saw Lydia not too far behind him, “I can tell you don’t belong. These are working people and you are becoming a distraction, so go on back to where you came from.”

“Peter, I know this man,” Lydia chimed in, “His name is Derek.”

“You stay out of this,” Peter’s voice was chilling and demanding, “This doesn’t concern you.”

Peter looked back at Derek, “Now you better get out of here.” 

His voice left no room for disagreement, but instead of listening, Derek stood up and took up a stance between Peter and Stiles.

“No!” Stiles called, “Derek you should go. I don’t want to see what would happen to you if you disobeyed.”

Derek looked at the pleading look in his love’s eyes and if anything that hardened his resolve.

“I am not going back alone,” Derek insisted, “I came to take him home.”

Peter laughed. It was a bone chilling sound, “You obviously aren’t from around here. If you were then you would know that everything and everyone here, I own.”

“You can’t own people.” Derek insisted.

“Your little boy toy signed himself away to me,” Peter smirked like he knew he had already won, “It’s a done deal and you can’t do anything about that.”

“It isn’t true!” Derek cried emphatically, “What he said, it isn’t true.” He turned a pleading look to Stiles who was just standing there in tears.

“I did,” He choked out, “I do.”

“Now, let’s let everybody see what I do with trespassers.” Peter said with a devilish twinkle in his eye.

He called all the workers to form a crowd around them. When enough people had gathered, Peter took a swing at Derek. His fist landed perfectly, knocking Derek to the ground, but Derek got back up.

Peter kept beating Derek down, but nothing kept him down for long. There was a voice in the back of Derek’s head telling him to give up, but he knew he couldn’t. He was either leaving here with Stiles or he wasn’t leaving at all. That’s just the way it was. So Derek kept getting up again, even when every fiber of his being was telling him to give up and give in, he kept going.

In the end, Derek was left broken and bloody. The last thing he saw before passing out was Peter dragging Stiles away.


	7. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is not a good guy in most of this chapter, so be warned.
> 
> Also, the last song that inspired this chapter is one of my favorites, but it barely got any time in my story, so please go listen because it's beautiful. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9J3C9jKxF6w

Derek was alone in the darkness of the underworld. The only thing he could hear was the reverberating sound of pickaxes hitting the stone. He resonated with the stone as he felt constantly beat down in his new hell.

He sat there wondering if all this was true. Why had Stiles sold himself to the devil? Was the world really that terrible? Well it must be and this was the first time Derek saw it for what it was. The world was an evil and desperate place. There was no place for love and happiness in the current world order. How could he have been so foolish?

If this was true, then Derek had no hope of bringing Stiles back, so he got up and started to leave. Before he left, he started singing a song of heartache. A song of what was and a song of what he wished it could be. He sang for himself because he thought no one was listening.

But the workers heard him. Derek’s song was so powerful they could hear him over the sound of their swinging pickaxes and hammars. They started questioning the purpose of what they were doing and stopped their working. For the first time in a long time the workers stood with their backs straight and they looked each other in the eye.

Derek soon realized there was no sound other than his song. He emerged from the darkness to see an army of workers standing and listening to him sing. They were captivated by him and the message of his song.

He continued his song, but it had more hope in it now. He was not as alone as he thought he was. His dream of how the world could be could still be realized. Peter was playing with a stacked deck, but Derek wasn’t playing his game anymore.

“Is it true what they say?” Derek asked when his song was over, “I’m asking you, and you, and you because I believe our answers matter more than anything they say. I believe if there is still a will, then there is a way.”

From his brief time in the underworld he had seen the workers had lost all individuality and personality. He tried to give them back some of what they had lost.

“We stand with you.” One worker said and it was echoed by another and another. Derek had the support he needed to face Peter head on.

What Derek and the workers didn’t know, was that Lydia heard the song as well and she saw the effect it had of the workers. She looked at Derek and she had compassion for him. He reminded her of someone she had known long ago.

“What are you afraid of?” Lydia asked when she entered Peter’s office.

“What?” She could tell her husband was shocked by her presence. She saw Stiles kneeling on the floor at her husband's feet. The sight filled her with disgust.

“He’s just a boy in love.” Lydia persisted.

“Why don’t you have a drink?” That question caught Lydia off guard. Sure, she would consider herself a lush, but that was only to get away from the man Peter had turned into. Now he was using her bad habits against her.

“No, I’ve had enough,” Her voice was forceful. Peter would listen to her whether he wanted to or not, “Peter, Derek loves Stiles.”

“Well that’s too bad.” Peter tapped the papers on his desk to emphasize his point.

“He has the kind of love for her that you and I once had.” Lydia’s voice had lost its forceful edge. Instead it was quiet. It was a rare moment that Lydia allowed herself to be vulnerable.

Peter’s eyes softened, recognizing the jealousy Lydia must be feeling, “The boy means nothing to me.” He assured her, but his assurances did nothing. Sure, Lydia was jealous of the attention Peter was giving Stiles, but that wasn’t the heart of the issue.

“But he means everything to Derek,” If even a spark of the man she fell in love with was still there, he would listen, “Let her go. Peter, you are my husband, my light, and my darkness. If you heard Derek’s song tonight you would pity him and set them free. All of his sorrow won’t fit in his chest. How long will you keep them here?”

“How long?” Peter roared, “For however long I am king. Nothing comes of singing little songs. Give them a crack and they will tear down the whole wall. My kingdom will not crack for a song.”

“Derek doesn’t want to topple your kingdom,” Lydia reasoned, “He sings for love and love only. Surely giving him love won’t ruin your rule!”

“Leave me!” Peter demanded, his eyes burning blue like the fires of his kingdom.

“I will never leave you so long as I am your wife. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Just then, there was a noise coming from outside. Lydia, Peter, and Stiles all rushed out onto the balcony to see Derek and the workers marching up to the castle.

“I guess you don’t scare too easily,” Peter called down, “My wife and workers seem taken by your song, but it takes more than a song to keep a bedfellow, boy. Take it from a man who’s been around a lot longer than you, the way to keep then is with silver bracelets and matching chains.”

His words did not deter Derek or the crowd. Instead, they became more defiant as did Lydia and Stiles who were next to him.

“If we are free, tell us why we don’t have names!” One worker called.

“If we are free, why do we do nothing but work!” Cried another.

“We can change our fate!” Stiles smiled down to Derek.

“I once thought of love like you,” Peter mused and it gave Lydia hope, “But there is more to life than love. Songs fade and end and I sing a new song now. A song of power played on machinery. You can go on and sing about love, but I rule this city and you are in my world, now.”

Lydia’s hopes were dashed. If Derek and Stiles’ love couldn’t bring Peter back to her, would anything be able to? She was going to be stuck in misery for the rest of her life and the world would continue on in torment.

“But, I’m feeling generous right now. You can sing one more song before I send you away. Sing a song that will make me feel again.”

The doors to the castle opened and the crowd met them in the throne room. Peter and Lydia were sitting on their thrones and Peter had chained Stiles to the front of his throne, so Derek would have to see his love kneeling at the feet of another man, and a god at that.

And so, Derek sang the song he had been working on because he now knew what it was truly about. He started by singing the story of Peter and Lydia’s love. How they had met and fallen for one another. The purity that their love initially had. He compared that love to what he felt for Stiles.

And then he sang it. He sang the song that made the flower he gave to Stiles bloom.

“Where did you get that melody?” Peter asked, in equal parts awed and fearful. He knew this song. He and Lydia had danced to it in the field.

“Let him finish, Peter.” Lydia laid her hand on his, seeing the cracks start. She knew her love was still in there, and Derek would bring him back to her.

Derek continued the story of his song, “It felt like you had always known her, and when you held her, you felt like you held the world in your arms, so you started to sing.”

Derek started singing the melody again, and this time Peter joined in, remembering when he had sung the same song long ago. And with Peter singing the song of his love, the world was placed back into tune. Derek’s vision of what could be was realized.

Peter released Stiles from his chains and took the hand of the woman he loved. And they danced. Peter with Lydia and Derek with Stiles. They danced all night as Derek, the workers, and Peter all sang the song of love and of springtime.

“Derek, you finished it,” Stiles said in awe when he was finally back in the arms of his love.

“I did,” Derek smiled, before the look fell from his face, “What do I do now?” He had been working on the song for so long, what was left for him?

“You take me home,” Stiles said, “Right now.”

They looked over at Peter and Lydia, who were lost in their own little world. Stiles was right, now was the time to go.

“How?” Derek asked. In all his determination, he never thought about what would happen when he reached his goal.

“We walk back the way you came.”

“It’s a long walk, and it’s dark and cold,” Derek described, “Are you sure you want to go?”

Stiles pulled him in for a kiss, “Take me home.” He said against Derek’s lips.

“I can’t provide for you what I promised.” Derek was ashamed. He had been so optimistic. He wanted Stiles to have the best, but now Derek knew that was out of reach.

“I don’t need gold or silver,” Stiles explained, “Just bread when I’m hungry and fire when I’m cold. All I need is you.”

They looked back over to Peter and Lydia, “He’ll let us go,” Stiles stated, “He’s so in love, how could he say no?”

“What about the workers?” Derek asked. They all believed in him, he couldn’t just abandon them.

“We’ll show them the way out.”

Derek pulled Stiles into another kiss. He really did love this man.


	8. Belladonna Kiss

Peter had been so taken by the beauty of his wife and the joy of their reconnecting, that he almost didn’t hear when Derek asked, “So can we go?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. His heart said to let them go and be free and he knew that was what Lydia wanted, but he had a kingdom to run. Both the underworld and the world above would be ruined if every soul tried to get back above. However he knew these two did not truly belong here. It was quite the conundrum.

If he said no, not only would Lydia likely shun him for a century or two, but the working souls would have a martyr to march behind. But if he said yes they would all run at the crack in the wall and everything would come crashing down. He had to do something clever and quick.

From his observations humans were dumb, they never thought beyond the immidiate. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage somehow. He looked at the couple and saw them side to side, holding hands, and sharing adoring glances. They were strong together, that was for sure, but what would happen if he separated the two? Now there was a question.

Out of sight out of mind, that was the old saying, right? Yes, together they were strong, but alone doubt comes in.

“You can go the way you came,” There were gasps and cheers from the crowd, “But there is a condition. You cannot go together. Derek will lead and Stiles will follow. There will be no touching or speaking. If these rules are broken, Stiles returns to the underworld.”

“It’s a trap.” Derek whispered to himself.

“It’s a trial,” Peter responded, “Do you trust yourselves? Do you trust each other?”

They looked at each other and nodded before responding, “We do.”

“Then go on, then.” Peter tried to keep up his gruff bravado, but he knew Lydia could see through it. He wanted them to succeed as much as she did. The workers couldn’t know that, though.

As the couple left, the workers dispersed.

“Peter, you let them go.” She said with wonder in her voice.

Peter sighed, “I let them try.”

Lydia smiled up at him and cradled his face, “What about us? Are we going to try?”

He leaned into her touch, but there was the sound of a train whistle in the distance, “It’s time for spring. We’ll try in the fall?”

“Wait for me.” Lydia said before making her way to her train that would actually be on time for once.

“I will.” Peter said after her retreating form.

As Derek started leading the way out of the underworld, he started thinking about the challenges that would face them. If he could find Jordan, then the hell hounds wouldn’t be an issue. However they didn’t have any food for the journey. Thankfully they wouldn’t have to worry about hiding during the day which would make the journey go faster.

He could hear the workers cheering them on, so he knew Stiles was behind him. That knowledge gave him the confidence to keep going. He just had to stay focused on the path ahead until they got to Beacon hills, this shouldn’t be too hard. He didn’t know what Peter was going on about some test.

They climbed out of the crack in the wall into the hellhounds’ territory. Jordan was quickly in front of them.

“You found him!” Jordan exclaimed. Derek just smiled and nodded, not wanting to break the deal with Peter.

“I can get you past the other hellhounds. Then it’s up to you.”

Derek smiled and nodded again to try and show his gratitude. He wished there was more he could do for Jordan, but maybe after he and Stiles were safe he could return to help the others. Or maybe Lydia would be able to bring him in from the cold.

Jordan left them at the edge of the tracks and then they were alone. There was no one around to assure him that Stiles was there. Was it possible that Peter would go back on his deal and take Stiles away? What if he had one of the hellhounds take Stiles back while Derek was stuck looking ahead?

Derek shook his head. Those thoughts wouldn’t help them get home. Doubt was starting to creep in and it made Derek feel uncomfortable. He looked at the vast desert ahead of him that the railroad ran through and couldn’t help but feel alone despite knowing that Stiles was behind him, hoping that Stiles was behind him.

But why would Peter let him win? This was too easy. Peter was a coldhearted ruler, why would he be this soft and lenient to two strangers? Especially when he had personally brought Stiles to his kingdom. Letting them go was a direct reflection of his rule and this was not the kind of ruler he was.

And Stiles… Stiles had chosen the underworld over the cold, foodless home that Derek could provide. Peter could give him everything. Why would Stiles walk all the way through the desert for nothing?

He used to be able to see what could be, but now all he could see was the nothing surrounding him. There was nothing. There was no Stiles behind him. Where was Stiles?

He couldn’t take it anymore. Derek needed to know. He could see Beacon Hills on the horizon, but was it worth it? Was Stiles with him? So Derek turned around.

“It’s you.” He gasped.

“It’s me,” Stiles responded, “Derek.”

“Stiles.” And Stiles disappeared, back to the underworld. No matter how hard he tried, Derek was unable to return for him again.

Hermes stood off to the distance. He had seen it all, but was unable to interfere due to the contract of the deal. His heart broke for the young couple. It was a tragedy that they had been so close.

And so Hermes went back to before the two met. He knew he couldn’t interfere, but he hoped that this time there would be a different outcome. There was a beauty in the hope, Hermes had learned that from Derek.

And so Hermes saw them; Derek was a poor young boy, but he had a gift to give.

“Does anybody have a match?” He heard Stiles ask. Derek could make you see how the world could be.

“Give me that?” And he saw Stiles go off with that woman the night before he was fated to meet Derek, the man who could bring back spring.

In the present, Lydia was stepping off the train into the town of Beacon Hills. The citizens marveled that she hadn’t forgotten them again. In the distance she could see a young man sitting alone under a tree, and so she told the people the tale of how spring was returned to them; she told them the tale of Derek and Stiles.


End file.
